Alone
by JerissicaCaryll
Summary: George and Daisy are sent to collect two souls at the local Middle School. George reunites with the teacher who changed her life.


**Alone**

By Jerissica Caryll

Disclaimer: This is a Dead Like Me fanfic, clearly I don't own any of the characters.

When Rube handed me my post-it of the day I just about busted up laughing. If there was anything in the world I hated more in life then high school it was middle school. And there was the address I dreaded printed, plain as day with the words "C. Solatov 8:19 pm".

"Can this get any worse?" I mumbled under my breath.

"Got a problem?" Rube demanded.

"No," I explained, "just bad memories."

"Think you know this person?" he asked.

"No. Just the place."

Mason leaned over the table to paw at my post-it, "Isn't that Kirnman Middle School?"

"How do you know that?" I demanded.

"I had a post-it like that once. Actually I had three like that, a lot of death happens at school now-a-days," Mason explained.

"You don't have something snide to say?" I asked Daisy who was still looking at her post-it, "No sexual exploit to share with us despite us not wanting to know? 'I had sex in a middle school one'?"

"I think some of them graduated middle school," She said absently. I was getting ready to ask what was wrong with her post-it but thought better of it. Mason on the other hand pulled it out of her hands to find out for himself and made a face.

"Looks like you two will be going together," he said and showed me the post-it.

K. Jikkeriz

8:20 pm

1400 Hillman Ave

"Sounds foreign," Daisy mused, "How hard can it be to find one foreign kid at a middle school at 8 at night?"

But she was wrong. It turned out to be a huge deal to find one kid at Kirnman Middle School at 8 at night. I could have told her that any kid that was hanging around a Middle School at night wasn't going to be hanging out in the office with all the lights on. It had been hard enough to explain to Daisy that we needed to get there by 7 to hope to find our charges but when the entire school could be seen from space due to the lights flashing around there was obviously a hitch in our plan. Turned out there was some play going on. I vaguely remembered how frighteningly ape shit Kirnman Middle School often went over any and all events. They insisted they were shaping their charges for their High School experience and parents needed to support the children in whatever boring endeavor they had chosen this week.

"Great," I breathed.

"Don't be so down in the dumps Georgia," Daisy perked, "It's not going to be nearly as difficult as your brain is making it out to be."

"Needle in a hay stack."

"If we jump right in I'm sure we'll find the needles in no time."

"Because the law of the universe says that they'll poke us," I was talking but my attention was more drawn to a small window that was lit up when none of the others were.

"I need to check something," I said.

"You think they're down there? Boozing it up, having a few laughs?"

"No," I sighed, I'd have to explain and I didn't want to, "I just need to check on something. I won't be long."

Daisy just shrugged but I was already heading off before she could tell me yes or no. I knew that room. And I knew what I'd find in that room. Best of all I knew where the door that slipped into that hallway was so I wouldn't have to try and dodge ushers in the main building. I wasn't sure if I was happy or sad to find exactly what I was looking for in that room or that it was exactly the way I had left it.

"He looks sad," Daisy whispered from where she was hunched over me.

"Did you follow me?" I demanded.

"We'll find these kids in no time and I wanted to know where you were running off to," she explained. I kicked myself for not expecting it, she was the curious meddling sort.

"Just don't draw attention to yourself," I snapped and finished opening the door I'd cracked to spy.

"May I help you?" the man demanded and jumped up from where he had been sitting on a desk with a book he wasn't reading.

"Mr. Riels," I spouted out before I could not, "I-I-I'm Mildred Boddington. I had your class many… many many years ago."

"Oh," Mr. Riels looked at me like he'd never seen me before. Which he hadn't.

"I was just… you know… wondering how you were."

"I'm fine," he said too quickly.

"How you really were."

He didn't answer immediately, that made me feel better. Then he smiled, "I'm fine… Mildred."

"Everyone calls me Milly," I said.

"Then thank you, Milly."

I smiled back at him and hurried out of the room. I knew it was risky to go poking around my life, Rube had long hammered that into my head, but I couldn't just abandon Mr. Riels when I was so close.

I had pretty much always hated school. I loved learning, to an extent, it was the people and the environment and everything else that made me hate it. And because I hated the institution I went out of my way to make sure it did the worst job I could. It was self destructive but I hadn't really cared. My second year of Middle School my mother forced me into taking a high school level math class. I could do it and figured out the material before the teacher got around the teaching it, but I wanted to get back at my mother and the school, so I tried hard to get the lowest passing grade I could. But then I had to take the final exam, which I didn't want to do at all. But the exam wasn't proctored by my mean-spirited math teacher but a quiet older man who didn't introduce himself, just passed out the tests and hid behind a book. It was weird to have a test without strict instructions not to cheat, like it was expected of us and no one cared anymore. As far as I know no one cheated. I was the first to turn in my test and just dropped it rudely on his table and walked away.

"Miss Lass," he said as I was walking away, "could you come here." It wasn't a question. I spun on my heal and walked back over with my most stubborn face plastered on and my arms crossed across my chest.

"Redo this," he instructed.

"Why?" I demanded.

"Because it's wrong."

"So?"

"So redo it," he slid the paper towards me and went back to his book. I almost argued but changed my mind and took my paper back.

"Mr. Riels giving you a hard time?" a boy next to me leaned over and whispered. I didn't know his name but he was an 8th grader that never missed an opportunity to talk to me. And I never missed an opportunity to sneer back, "He's a hard ass. One of those teachers that hate their jobs but try anyway. It's really pathetic."

I had thought it was pathetic for about five minutes but then I got mad. During lunch I stormed into his classroom (which took five minutes to find, it was so tucked away from the rest of the school) and demanded to know why he was embarrassing me when I wasn't even his student. He hadn't actually embarrassed me, just pushed me and I didn't feel like explaining why that pissed me off.

"You're a pretty girl Miss Lass," he said, "And you're better than that."

"Better than what?"

"You've got a brain, otherwise you wouldn't be in that class, use it."

"It's my business if I feel like trying in school," I snapped.

Then Mr. Riels exploded. "I just think that smart girls shouldn't go on wasting their lives by getting pregnant their first year of high school by some football jock just because they don't appreciate themselves!" he yelled, "If you want to go on thinking you're nothing but a pretty blonde bimbo I don't care. Now get out."

I was getting ready to yell back but I didn't know what to say. When people got mad at me they usually just got indignant and gave up and I could give them a look and everything was even. Where did this stocky teacher with his sandwich half wrapped in wax paper get off getting mad at some student he didn't even know? I looked around and tried to tell myself that he was pissed off because I was better than him. He was sitting alone in his classroom during lunch hour with a smashed sandwich, a can of juice, and a bag of cheese chips, the latter two clearly bought from the school vending machine, with a book on Greek irrigation systems when everyone else in school was off forgetting about learning for a little while. But the problem was I couldn't tell myself I was better because I was so clearly not. We were equals. Two people so fed up with life that we felt we had to get back at it. He had just picked a different way. But it wasn't any better or any worse or any more or less lonely. It was simply different.

The next year I purposefully signed up for his Latin class. I didn't care a shake about Latin but I needed Mr. Riels to understand. To see that he wasn't alone in this attempt to survive. I pulled nothing but straight As in his class and routinely asked him if he was doing ok. I knew the stress living was putting on him and I didn't like it. Throughout the entire year he barely acknowledged me. He didn't pointedly ignore me, just refused to change his routine just because someone finally wanted in. I ate lunch with him for about a week. Even went so far as to try and sneak some of mine in with his so maybe he'd have something sweet to eat or whatever I decided was important at the time. But he still refused to change his routine, even when I was sitting right there he kept his nose pointedly shoved in his book.

"Where do you start looking?" I asked Daisy. I had a job to do, I couldn't fixate on my old life.

"Just start talking to people, foreign people. You know how to do this."

"Yeah, I'm on it."

Several minutes later my watch said it was 7:25 and I still hadn't been able to find a single person who might be C. Solatov. Daisy, on the other hand, had several candidates, all male, flocked around her as she joked, flirted, and attempted to wrestle out that final bit of information. I just sat down and sighed, it would be so much easier to just show up when the shit did start to hit the fan and pull my soul then.

"Hey," some guy said, sitting on the bench next to me.

"What?"

"You just look lonely."

"I'm not lonely."

"Ok, bored," he tried.

"I'm not bored."

"Cute, then," he smiled like he'd said something clever. I just stared in disbelief that he honestly thought I wasn't going to just hit him for being an idiot. "I'm Chris," he said after a second and had realized I wasn't going to prance off to the bathroom with him for a quick fuck.

"Chris Solatov?" I tried.

"Yeah, baby."

My luck knows no bounds. Maybe it was a reaper thing, our charges often come to us if they're going to be difficult to find. I needed to ask Rube, possibly just Mason, sometime, see if it was just me.

"Lemme show you something," C. Solatov said and grabbed my hand. I didn't feel the usual tug of a soul that wanted to come out but maybe it was still too early. It was, after all, only 7:30 and he wasn't supposed to die until 8:19. Some souls wanted to stay in their bodies as long as possible while others start trying to escape days before hand.

Chris led me out to the courtyard and over to a park table. He'd obviously been here before, a backpack lay on the table.

"Aren't the stars beautiful?" he said.

"Sure," I mumbled, "what did you want to show me?"

"Just the stars."

"The stars?"

"What better way to spend the last little bit on earth then with a pretty girl looking at the stars?" He asked.

"You think you're going to die?"

"Everyone is going to die," Chris explained, "just some people die sooner than others."

"You dying tonight?"

"My life is over anyway."

"Why?" I asked, actually finding myself caring.

"I'm getting kicked out of school."

"That's a crappy reason," I spit out before I knew what I was saying. I had no business talking this kid out of killing himself, especially when I was supposed to be taking his soul when he did so.

"You really think it's stupid?"

"I think you have to deal with your problems, not run away from them," I said, "but that's just my opinion."

He didn't say anything, just looked back up at the stars. I just sighed and scratched the back of my hand. They'd been itching so bad lately, I needed to give in and buy some hand lotion but I really didn't want to stoop that low.

"Something wrong with your hand?" He asked.

"I think I just have dry skin."

"I think I have some…" Chris trailed off as he rooted around in his backpack before producing a small bottle of hand lotion. I reluctantly accepted it. I couldn't quite justify buying my own lotion, it seemed to frivolous, but mooching off someone else was something I excelled at even before I died. I didn't feel like really talking to my charge so I read the bottle as I rubbed my hands together. It said all the normal lotion things but I read it twice to kill time. Then I spun it around to read the front and came face to face with a word scribbled in black sharpie. 'Kris'.

"Kris?" I said.

"Huh?" He said, sitting up from where he had been laying on the table to look at the stars.

"Your name is Kris?"

"Yeah, you knew that," he sputtered.

"Kris with a 'K'," I said and shoved the bottle at him, "you're not Chris Solatov. You lied to me."

Kris didn't answer right away just stared at the bottle, "I-I'm sorry," he stammered.

"You better be sorry!" I snapped.

"No, this lotion," he tried to explain but I was already heading back inside, "stop, it's important." I stopped and turned around with my arms firmly crossed and my most unamused face plastered on. "My friend gave this to me," he explained.

"What does this have to do with anything?"

"It has poison ivy in it," he admitted, "It was a practical joke."

"Can my night get any worse?" I demanded and stormed back inside.

My watch now said it was 7:55 and there was next to no chance I was going to find the real C. Solatov. Not now that everyone had already gone into the auditorium. On the off chance I grabbed the program and scanned all the names. No mention of a C. Solatov. And no sign of Daisy, she'd clearly found her death. And my hands were starting to itch. The night couldn't get any worse and there was only one person who would understand.

"Can I help you, Milly?" Mr. Riels asked without putting down his book.

"This sucks," I said. "I know it's stupid and immature but it's the only way to accurately describe my situation. 'This sucks.'"

"I've felt that way before," he admitted, "Sit down, what's wrong?"

"Everything has gone wrong. And I have poison ivy on my hands."

"You do?"

"Yeah. Don't worry, I won't touch anything."

"Why don't you go up to the bathroom and wash your hands, I think there's some chamomile lotion in the teacher's work room. I'll meet you there in five minutes." I could never really argue with Mr. Riels and he was already heading off towards said teacher's work room so I didn't have much of a chance to argue.

I went to the bathroom, it was disturbing in the dark even with the lights on. Something about the school after dark made my skin crawl. By now my watch said it was 8:03 and I was no closer to finding C. Solatov. I shouldn't have been surprised. Middle School screwed me over when I was a student, why I had thought it would be different now was anyone's guess. The only option now was to sit around and wait for someone to die and snatch their soul and hope Rube didn't catch on. He had strong feelings about the etiquette of reaping.

"You don't have to tell we what's wrong," Mr. Riels said as he came into the bathroom, "wash your hands." I did as I was told. "My father died when I was 13."

"I'm sorry," I said. It sounded pitiful even to me.

"Don't be, he was an abusive jerk. But the point is whatever is going on I think I can understand enough if you want to talk."

"I think someone is going to die tonight," I admitted, I could never keep anything from Mr. Riels, "And I should be there but I can't be, and now they're going to die alone."

"Everyone dies alone."

"No, they don't," I explained, "Even if you die all alone there's always someone there. Someone to guide you." I looked at my watch, 8:17. In two minutes C. Solatov was going to die somewhere in the building or on the grounds and I wasn't going to be there. I didn't even know if I'd be able to find them. What if I couldn't find them? What if no one could find them? I was the only person who knew they died but even I couldn't find their body so their soul was just stuck there while their body rotted away around it. I couldn't handle it, I had to find them.

"Excuse me," I said and rushed towards the door.

"George!" Mr. Riels cried and grabbed my arm. I stopped dead in my tracks.

"What?" I demanded. He didn't answer, just stared at me like he'd seen a ghost. Which he had.

From the door there was a click. I knew the sound on a gun being cocked, I'd heard it enough times in my line of work. And I knew my watch would say that it was 8:19. And I knew on Mr. Riels' birth certificate it didn't list his name as Mr. Riels but C. Solatov. It sucked and there was nothing I could do about it except spare him the pain.

"You're not alone," I said and let his soul come to me just as the shot rang out.

I didn't look at Mr. Riels when he died. I didn't look at him when he was dead either. Just stared at nothing until I heard the second gunshot and the click of Daisy's heals on the linoleum floor.

"This sucks," I said.

"Yes," Daisy said, "I have murderer blood on my new satin heals."

"Not your shoes. This. The stupid absurdity of life."

"Why do you always get so pensive after a job?" Daisy demanded the she gave a little gasp, clearly she saw the body at my feet.

"Are you ok?" Mr. Riels, C. Solatov, asked from where his spirit stood behind me.

"I'm fine," and I finally looked at him.

"George, I'm sorry," he said.

"Why are you sorry?"

"You don't deserve this."

"Deserve what? You just died."

"George," Mr. Riels said again, "I'm sorry."

"We're used to the anguish of the survivor," Daisy said from the other side of the room, "I'm going to go, Georgia."

I watched Daisy and Kris Jikkeriz from the picnic table outside walk away. When I turned back to look at Mr. Riels he was studying the bottle of chamomile lotion on the counter.

"What?" I asked.

"Your hands," he said, "Are they ok?" I looked at my hands to discover them fine.

"Grim Reapers heal fast," I explained.

"Were you always a Grim Reaper?"

"No. I died a couple years ago."

Behind him a blue light blossomed. I couldn't make out what it was, looked just like a pure light. I didn't want him to go but it was clearly time. Mr. Riels looked over his shoulder and then back at me.

"You were the best student I ever had, George," he said, "I want you to know that."

"You were the best teacher I ever had."

"Come with me," he said, "I don't want to be alone."

"You won't be alone."

"What's there?"

"I don't know," I reached out and hugged him. There was a look in his eyes. One that said he wasn't going to leave me and in a way in comforted me. But in the end I had to do what was right. I pushed him into his light. And then I walked away without even seeing him disappearing.

"You ok, Georgia?" Daisy asked me.

"I told Kris that killing himself was stupid and he had to face his problems."

"That's not why he killed your teacher."

"Isn't it?" I said, "If I hadn't said anything he might have just killed himself and been done with it."

"He looked happy."

"Who?"

"Your teacher."

"You said he looked sad," I reminded her.

"He did. Then. But he seems happy now. He's not alone anymore."


End file.
